


Need somebody to knock me out

by nychthemera



Category: Olympics RPF, Snowboarding RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 12:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1226500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nychthemera/pseuds/nychthemera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being stuck at the airport sucks, but there are some things to make it a slightly better experience. Things like vodka, empty corridors and the company of an Olympic champion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need somebody to knock me out

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for any and all out-of-character behavior. I'm working on that. Title from Katy B's "5 AM".

On the day he’s finally supposed to be heading home, a freak snowstorm is hitting New York and all the airports there are closed. Which means that his flight from Sochi is delayed by hours. And more hours. They were supposed to fly out in the morning but by the time the clock hits 2:30 am, Shaun resigns to the fact that they’re not getting anywhere today. Or yesterday, like they were supposed to. He’s found a quiet corner of the departure hall, away from his team. Because as much as he loves them, well, some of them, he’s doesn’t feel like being around anyone at the moment. Their attempts to cheer him up and make him socialize are annoying him so fucking much. He’s worked for this for months and years and they all believed in him and thought he could make it and he’s not good at losing. He’s craving a drink but the bars stopped serving him hours ago, probably because someone from his PR team told them to, as if anyone would care whether he’s trashed on his way home or not. And he truly should be halfway home by now, getting ready for the tour and quite possibly signing his name on some papers too and he’s starting to realize how badly it sucks not being able to sleep when you’ve lost because at least when you’ve won there is something you can do, some way to have fun but now there’s nothing and he hates it. Hates how people seem to think that it’s a thing he should be getting used to.

Shaun looks up from his iPad, to check the departures screen for the umpteenth time. ”More information on this flight will be given at 5:30 am.” Three hours. Maybe he could just get back to the village, to crash on an actual bed instead of being forced to sit on the uncomfortable piece of plastic-leather and metal and being surrounded by the chrome walls the Russians seem to love. His body is tense and aching and he’s trying to figure out how long of an ice bath he’ll need once he gets back home, just to feel like a human again. Shaun debates whether to get up and wake up someone to organize him a ride back to the village. He knows that he should let them sleep, they’ve deserved it but he pays them to be concerned of his well-being and if they don’t understand his need for comfort at this moment he’s going to let them go.

Before he can get up and do anything, someone ungracefully sits down on the seat next to him. Shaun turns to look and of course it’s Iouri. With the gold medal around his neck. ”You got through the security with that?” he asks by way of greeting but doesn’t actually look at the medal. Or Iouri’s face. In fact, he’s focusing on the screen of his iPad again and doesn’t even care if it’s rude, he’s not known as the guy who enthusiastically hangs out with his peers and is nice to them. ”Nah, one of the guards over there wanted to get a pic so I got it out for that,” Iouri answers a bit too cheerfully, like a puppy wanting to please his master.

The Swiss man seems to be unable to find a comfortable position on the seat and keeps fidgeting when asking ”Didn’t you guys leave like hours ago? Someone said you skipped out on the party early because of your flight?” Iouri’s tone makes it sound like an early flight is an excuse Shaun had made up in order to avoid everyone. Not his style, Iouri should know it. ”Snowstorm in New York. Can’t land there so we’re stuck here waiting for news and I’m sick of it. Why are you here though?” He’s sure the screens say nothing about flights to Zürich so Iouri must be heading elsewhere in Russia. ”I mean, why aren’t you somewhere hanging out with your people if you can’t get out of the airport?” Shaun continues. ”We were supposed to have an evening flight but there’s a terrorist threat in Moscow so we’re here. And everyone’s sleeping. And I do want to get out of here. I want to get up the mountain and ride for fun for a few hours. I haven’t done that in ages. When was the last time you did it?” Iouri’s question caughts Shaun off guard and he can’t mask the expression of sadness on his face. ”Uhh, it’s been… a while,” is what Shaun manages to answer. Quite honestly, he doesn’t even remember. He’s spent so much time learning to land new tricks for the Games and approving designs and giving interviews and running business and recording and he suddenly realizes how thin it’s all worn him. Putting all the fun stuff aside to be what everyone expects him to be. ”Fuck man,” he mumbles and Iouri turns to look at him while Shaun stares at the guards on the runway, ten feet apart. 

”Yeah?” Shaun can’t decide if Iouri really wants to have a conversation or if he’s just talking to stay awake. ”No sorry. I mean, everything’s kind of overwhelming and this is not where I really want to be now,” is Shaun’s answer and Iouri, for such a bouncy and energetic guy, has gone surprisingly still. ”Want to get out of here? Go up there and ride with me?” Iouri asks and damn, he seems almost as desperate to get out of the airport as Shaun is. It’s something he’d like to say yes to, but not the kind of risk he can afford to take. ”Nah man, not going to work out. My flight could be leaving soon and besides, I gave away all my boards so I’ve got nothing to ride.” So Shaun might be deluding himself about the flight because it’s painfully obvious they’re not going to get anywhere before the morning, but at least the part about the boards is true. ”C’mon, you’re Shaun White. You could probably get a dozen new boards straight from the factory flown in if you just asked,” Iouri says and nudges Shaun’s foot for good measure. 

”Not everything I want happens, you know,” Shaun retorts and very pointedly isn’t looking at the medal on Iouri’s neck. And he’s not referring to the YOLO flip either, not when it took him weeks to land and make it work and then fail it when it most mattered. But he doesn’t need to say it out loud, Iouri seems to be able to read between the lines. The winner slowly removes the medal from around his neck and tries to tuck it into his pocket. ”Ah hell, it’s too big,” Iouri curses when the pockets of his skinny jeans turn out to be too small. 

”Those things tend to be. That’s why I like them,” Shaun can’t help but remark and the look on Iouri’s face is intriguing. Shaun thinks he’s seen that look before, a long time ago. ”Tell you what, I go lose this into a safe place-” Iouri starts, gesturing to the medal. ”You don’t need to, not for my sake, I was going to try to get some sleep anyway,” Shaun says but Iouri ignores him and continues. ”No, I go lose this and you get rid off that stuff you’re carrying around with you and I make this stuck at the airport thing a bit better for both of us.” Before Shaun can say anything, Iouri gets up and starts towards the row of benches filled with people in red jackets. 

Okay, Shaun is not going to get any sleep, not now, so he decides to do what Iouri told him to. He drops his bag next to Bud and hopes that whatever Iouri has in mind doesn’t involve a lot of talking. Shaun could go a few days without having to talk to anyone. Or without having to listen to what people are telling him to do and not to do. He sees the Swiss walk back towards where they were sitting earlier and yes, he’s got a bottle of vodka in his hands. Shaun knows that the bars stopped serving him for a reason, but right now getting a bit more drunk with someone he might even call a friend seems like the best way to spend the rest of the night. 

Iouri falls into step with Shaun, neither of them not really having any idea where they’re actually going, but the empty corridor in front of them looks like a much better place for a drunken escapade than anywhere else. Iouri hands over the bottle and Shaun takes a long swig before grimacing and returning it. They keep on like that for a while, passing the bottle in silence and walking further and further down the dimly lit corridor. When Iouri suddenly stops, it takes Shaun a few paces to realize what has happened. ”What now man?” he asks when Iouri frowns. ”If we, no actually, if you keep up with this we’re out of drink soon and you’ll be shitfaced and I wasn’t planning that,” comes the answer and Shaun laughs because Iouri had plans other than them getting blissfully drunk? 

The glint in Iouri’s eyes answers the question Shaun didn’t even vocalize. ”Yeah, I was planning on finding out if medals are the only thing you like big,” Iouri explains while looking straight into Shaun’s eyes. And while Shaun’s intoxicated and well on his way to a blackout, the thought that registers at the back of his mind is that it might be a different kind of blackout. Something he wasn’t expecting, but something he’s fine with. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before, it’s just been a long time. One more thing on the list of things he’s put on hold to train and recover and to deal with everything on his plate. So he looks up into Iouri’s eyes and nods. ”I’m game, man. And you know they aren’t.” A grin appears on Iouri’s face as he grabs Shaun’s hand and pulls him into the toilet. Shaun thinks Iouri might have stopped right here on purpose but doesn’t have time to ponder it for long. Not when he’s pushed against the wall of the nearest stall and Iouri’s sloppily kissing him. 

Shaun’s missed this. Kisses that are teeth and heat of the moment and a bit all over the place. And judging by the darkness of Iouri’s eyes, so has he. Iouri cards his fingers through what is left of Shaun’s red locks and tilts his head back to nip at Shaun’s neck. ”Ahhh fuck,” Shaun mumbles and lets his hands wander under Iouri’s shirt. Iouri’s hands have moved from Shaun’s hair to undoing the zipper of his pants and he arches off the wall to give the Swiss man some room to work. ”Fucking skinny jeans,” Iouri curses and Shaun can’t help but laugh. ”Look who’s talking,” he says while palming Iouri’s cock and making the other man gasp. ”Not you if it’s up to me,” Iouri says before hurriedly kissing Shaun and then dropping to his knees. Shaun doesn’t have time to reply before Iouri wraps his lips over the head of his dick and takes as much of him into his mouth as he can. Shaun arches even more off the wall and fists Iouri’s hair for leverage. Iouri slaps his hands on Shaun’s hips and pins him back against the wall without faltering in the steady rhythm he’s built up. ”Fuck man, oh fuck yes, fuck,” Shaun utters and the message his vodka-hazed brain is sending him is that he’s not going to last long and he should probably warn Iouri but he’s already coming down Iouri’s throat before a single word manages to leave his lips. 

Shaun feels like he might have actually blacked out when he starts to come back to his senses after what has admittedly been the best orgasm he’s had in a while. Iouri’s gotten back to his feet but his hands haven’t left Shaun’s hips and he’s looking into Shaun’s eyes like he’s willing him to open them fully. ”You okay?” Iouri asks, his voice hoarse and lips redder than Shaun has ever seen them. ”Yeah. Sorry man. Sorry,” he says, embarrassed, and leans his forehead on Iouri’s shoulder. He’s pretty sure this isn’t how the other man had planned things to go and he’s about to add that on the list of ways he’s disappointed people. But then Iouri says ”It’s okay. As long as you’re good I’m good.” and Shaun lifts his head and kisses him. More tender and much slower than before. He hears the overhead speakers crackle and finally give out the information he’s been waiting for for a good 12 hours. ”Good morning ladies and gentlemen, We’re now ready to start boarding flight UA1809 to New York.” Shaun can’t help but groan because it’s obvious he should properly thank Iouri and he starts to undo the belt of the Swiss man’s jeans when Iouri stops his hands. ”Later. Go home Shaun. Take it easy for a bit. Have a safe trip.” With that and a quick peck oh his lips, Iouri turns to open the stall door and walks out of the toilet. Shaun licks his lips and adjusts his jeans while watching the other man go. When he walks up to his gate, he glances over where the Swiss are sitting and catches Iouri’s gaze. ”Later,” Shaun mouths before Iouri averts his eyes and focuses on the conversation he’s having with a teammate. Shaun doesn’t know when that later will be, or if it will ever be, but as he walks down the tunnel to the plane, he thinks there are worse promises to make.


End file.
